The Honk

It really is unbecoming to brag. It is unflattering to shamelessly boast. Blowing your own horn, flying your own kite or singing your own praises are all examples of self-serving demonstrations that eventually lead to an empty audience.

But, I’m going to do it anyway.

Recently, I developed a discipline strategy that is nothing less than genius in nature.  It is particularly useful in redirecting the wayward attitude of a pre-teen or teenager, allowing for almost immediate behavior modification. It is similar to the shock collar used for dogs minus the mild discomfort and release of bladder.

Never let it be said that we are not humane in our household.

The simplicity of this method makes it available to all parents. Classes don’t have to be attended; manuals don’t have to be read.  Personal aptitude does not influence its effectiveness and commitment to consistency almost irrelevant.

It will snap straight the most circuitous of attitude and remove the sizzle from a sassy tongue. Improvement in disposition is instantaneous, leaving a peaceful environment that makes prescribed sedatives seem unwarranted.

The breakthrough discipline technique I have created is a little something I like to call THE HONK:

                                        Hindering Orneriness of the Nearest Kid

The HONK method is used in our household to remind a misbehaving child that we are not above using embarrassment as a tool for correction.  Recent implementation of this breakthrough technique occurred when driving my oldest son to an after school activity at the varsity football field.  I explained that infractions like unnecessary squabbles with siblings, sarcastic responses to simple inquiries or the polluted condition of his bedroom would each earn a resounding car honk when dropped off at a desired destination.

To reinforce the objective, I offered a free demonstration honk as Chase exited the car. “But I haven’t done anything yet!” my oldest exclaimed over his shoulder as he scurried away from the noise. 

 “I love you, sweet boy!”  I joyfully bellowed in front of his staring friends, further emphasizing a rather well made point.

Throughout the day, honks can be given or taken away depending on the behavior exampled by the child. Because this is a program designed for flexibility, parents can improvise their own method of honking, adding very long honks for more serious offenses or multiple honks for repeated transgressions.

It is crucial to deliver the child to their destination in a vehicle possessing a horn with a sound that carries. Timing is also important in that the discipline is most effectual in front of a crowd of peers or group of upper classmen.  Remember, this hurts them more than it does us.

 As a final thought, I wonder if Proverbs 22:6 would have proven even more useful to parents if wise old Solomon had written the verse like this: 

“Honk to train a child in the way he should go, and when he is old he will not turn from it.”

New York City: Day Two

Rockefeller Center
Top of the Rock

It is a phenomenon that seems to follow us wherever we travel. While some may say that we attract unsolicited commotion, I maintain that it is a haphazard stumble upon circumstance, a coincidence if you will, that finds our family in the middle of bizarre events.

The fellow on the right witnessed a sweet marriage proposal during our visit to Top of the Rock at Rockefeller Center. The hyper-aware one on the left almost had to make a citizen's arrest.

While most were watching the man on bent knee profess love and devotion, I noticed sudden activity among the security guards around us. I followed one guard who was speaking frantically into a walkie-talkie, hurrying in a direction opposite of the proposal.

Surely, my help was needed. And I had three children to protect on top of a VERY tall building.

The security guard and I raced around the corner to find five other officers circled around a suspicious looking backpack lying ominously on a bench. As they called for police back-up, I asked the guard closest to me if we should start handing out parachutes to all of the visitors.

He did not think that I was funny.

And I was not trying to be.

I reminded the concerned guard of our location of 70 stories high on top of a building. And that I had small children on top of said building. He used his capital letters voice when responding, "MA'AM, I'M GOING TO NEED YOU TO STAND BACK! WE HAVE THIS UNDER CONTROL!"

What is it about my personality that brings out such emotion in others?

Clearly, he did not appreciate the potential skills of yours truly when sniffing out a crime. Or the lengths a mom will go to in order to protect her offspring. Once, again, my hope for a citizen's arrest would be squashed.

After spending several minutes in a law enforcement huddle, the officers concluded that the backpack was not a bomb, that it had been irresponsibly left by a knuckle-headed teenager who was trying to get to the real life, Bachelor version of a wedding proposal taking place on top of the rock. The only drama it lacked was the rose ceremony and the tear-streaked leftover riding home in the limo of broken hearts.

So, it all ended well. I didn't have to assist the security guards with their almost emergency, which is a good thing, because I don't know a thing about parachutes.

Santa Land at Macy's

We rode escalators past eleven stories of retail. I hadn't felt that much temptation since fighting the urge to break out into the Charlie's Angels two-handed pistol stance at the top of the rock that morning.

Gum ball joy.


Santa had better get his game on. Only 23 more days until Christmas!


We weaved through a line that took us through a holiday forest. This picture was taken moments before seeing Santa. The kid in the brown sweater is gritting his teeth in this photo. He will find coal in his stocking this year.


I was told that my Christmas list was unreasonable. Apparently the jolly old man can't accommodate plastic surgery or heavy sedatives. He also said that he can't do a thing about the stalker who follows me everywhere - Mr. Double Chen. Maybe I should have brought it up to the security guard?



American Museum of Natural History

After Santa Land, we took a taxi to this museum. My heart rate was elevated throughout the entire ride. Never once did I see the driver's hands in the safe two and ten position on the steering wheel. He was too busy honking at the innocents and running down the elderly.



I forget the educational significance of this picture. It just makes me laugh.





In fact, I wish that I could offer more insightful facts about each of these photos...



...but I was a little distracted by these three when trying to engage in the learning process.



He is a very friendly child.




Pretending to hold the head of a skeleton.



A spontaneous moment where everyone is acting like they have some sense.



It didn't last for long.



A genius design. I could really benefit from having an extra head.



We ended our day in the Nintendo store......

and the American Girl store.

She had to be restrained. : )

New York City: Day One

After a shaky start to our trip, we grabbed our luggage and jumped into the van with our driver. The kids were wide eyed as they encountered for the first time the sights of the city. I was wide eyed as we weaved in and out of traffic in a manner that resembled the poorest contender in Mario Cart. While the driver’s eyes appeared to be open, he drove as though they were shut.

Through God’s mercy we made it safely to our hotel. As we exited the van, Chase asked me why I kept stomping on the floor of the van during the roller coaster ride. “I was using imaginary brakes, “ I replied, receiving a well-earned eye roll from my twelve year old.

We dropped off our belongings and headed to Times Square. Loaded down with cameras and backpacks, we all craned our necks towards the sky as we walked, clearly identifying ourselves as tourists.

And we didn’t care.

Hard Rock Cafe

(Please excuse the creepy finger in the corner)





Toys R US



The clouds parted and the angels sang:



These are my people.



Times Square





I loved this dude's hair. Mary Mac said I was "soooooooo embarrassing."



Taking it all in.



The M&M Store



This is what Chandler hopes heaven will look like:



Bottom's Up!



What a joyful job! These folks eat candy all day and dance all night! Maybe my husband's practice should adopt this policy.

The sign above us reads, "Inside everyone there's a little nut." How fitting.

Radio City Christmas Spectacular with the Rockettes -



My Peeps





Ellen's Stardust Diner

Our waiter singing on top of a table - the family version of Chippendales.



Yes, his fingers are lit. And no, he's not a descendant of ET.








The day was full and fun, and ended just as exciting as it had begun. At midnight, we made our way back to the hotel, and fell into sound sleep.



And double-dog dared anyone to wake us in the morning.

Is There A Doctor On Board?

The morning of our flight to New York was uneventful. We made it through airport security without taking much offense, and found our gate without losing our way or a small child. Boarding the plane with our crew of five, I remember thinking how relieved I felt that the hard part was done, that we could finally take a break from work responsibilities and enjoy our brief trip.

I must have momentarily forgotten that where we travel, shenanigans are sure to follow.

We all were seated in the same row, in the middle of the plane. The flight was smooth, the children well behaved, and the landing perfect. As I unbuckled and began to collect my belongings, a frantic stewardess raced from the back of the plane, almost colliding with another stewardess coming from the opposite direction. The commotion was enough to gather the attention of everyone on board.

Before long, a huddle of four panicked stewardesses arranged themselves around a passenger sitting five rows in front of our family. In a high pitched voice, an attendant yelled out the question that always causes my chest to tighten, my heart to race, and my palms to sweat: “Is there a doctor on board?”

My nervousness doesn’t come from lack of confidence in my spouse, who has practiced medicine for almost twenty years. There is very little he hasn’t seen or responded to. The anxiety comes from that same place that finds you holding your breath when your child is up to bat with two outs in the bottom of the 9^th, or wringing your hands when another is only one of two remaining in the school spelling bee. Time seems suspended during those moments when you are praying for the best outcome, but prepared to comfort your loved one in case of the worst.

John stood from his seat and made his way towards the huddle of stewardesses. Years of dealing with the medical induced hysteria of yours truly only served to help his cause as he encountered the plane personnel, who made me seem calm, cool and collected. While trained in first aid, the dire situation before them was more than the training manuals had covered.

A young lady traveling alone was unresponsive. Apparently, she had boarded the plane in a somewhat confused state but not enough to warrant concern from those sitting beside her. Eventually, she closed her eyes, appearing to sleep, when in fact she was unconscious.

John arrived in time to prevent a stewardess from forcing orange juice into the mouth of the ill passenger, potentially asphyxiating her in the process. A medical alert bracelet and insulin pump identified the young lady as a diabetic, but clenched jaws prevented sugar intake. John found glucose pills in the woman’s purse and held one to the side of her mouth, hoping it would absorb through the lining.

In the meantime, passengers were directed off the plane, filing past John, the woman and the array of flight attendants. Mary Mac, our seven year old, began to feel nauseous. After turning the shade of green that signals imminent upheaval, I picked up my daughter and raced to the back of the plane to the bathroom. As she vomited, I looked towards my other two children, one of whom had taken out the video camera and WAS NOW RECORDING THE MEDICAL CRISIS OF THE POOR LADY. Holding one child over the toilet, and wishing that I had arms long enough to snatch the other, I yelled across the plane, “STOP FILMING RIGHT NOW!” I added the evil eye to emphasize the point. The flight attendants all looked at me as though I may be their next emergency.

It would be another thirty minutes before the EMT’s arrived with a stretcher. After conferring with my spouse, they carried the still unconscious lady off of the plane and through the terminal.

Another thirty minutes later, after conversations with the pilots, and forms to complete with airport administrators, we were allowed to finally disembark the plane.

We had officially arrived in New York City.

We're Gonna Be A Part Of It

We are taking our family nonsense to New York City. With great joy and excitement, we have been planning this trip over the last four months. Our children have never seen the city and my husband and I have never seen it decorated for Christmas.

The suitcases have been prepared.

The children have laid out their clothes. (FYI - the wig Chase hoped to bring below was confiscated by yours truly. As though we need to bring extra attention to our shenanigans.)

Chandler's pile included five pairs of flannel pajamas (for a three night trip) and a wrap around Georgia Snuggie. Is it just me, or is it very possible that we are going to be WAY out of our element?

Mary Mac's stack - what a great name for a pancake restaurant! - includes her very worn Hoppy and handwarmers. She would appear to be such a practical child until you see the bejewelled flats and the princess dress up high heels laying to the side.

It was a little work filtering through the attire chosen by my three, but I think we are ready to cross state lines.

Our reservations are in place, and broadway show tickets purchased. We have gathered our belongings and packed the suitcases. Plane tickets are in hand and passports tucked safely away in backpacks. We are ready for New York City!

But is New York City ready for us?